The Lunatic Cafe

A loud groaning, wheezing noise is heard in the cafe and a familiar blue box slowly materializes near the back of the cafe.

As the doors to the blue police box open a bright and bubbly blond practically dances out. Looking back to the interior of the box she calls out. "I'll go ahead and place our orders while you try to get Martha to come out."

A muffled voice from inside the box is heard but too muddled for anyone but the blond to hear.

"It wasn't my fault! You spilled the bottle on her not me!"

More muffled sounds from inside the box.

"Okay, I admit if I hadn't have bought the stuff it wouldn't have been there for you to knock over! Tell her I'm sorry and see if you can convince her to come out."

As Harley turns to find a table she mutters to herself. "It is so not my fault!"

The doors to the cafe burst open and a woman dressed in red and black cartwheeled into the room to end in a crouch with a huge over sized gun in her hand.

"Prepare for the ultimate punchline Puddin..." Harley blinked a few times.

Cocking her head side to side she studied the diners and casual drinkers who for the most part ignored her entrance and continued with their conversations.

With a shrug Harley put her huge gun in a handbag she was carrying.

Catching the eye of a waitress she asked. "So... whatcha got in here with chocolate in it?"

Through the doors to the cafe enters a dark and foreboding presence, which would have been even more threatening if said figure had been taller than 5' 4".

A deep ominous breathing comes from the all black armored clad figure as the metal helmet with mask slowly turns first in one direction and then the other as it takes in the interior of the cafe. The breathing begins to speed up before becoming broken and wheezing sounding.

Slamming up the mask the figure gasps for a moment before speaking.

"Damn helmet, I thought those techs at Space Shack fixed the air conditioner in it?"

Looking around the cafe Dark Helmet realizes he is not on planet Kansas any more.

"Oh great! Where the hell am I know? Where is Colonel Saunders and President Skroob? And... I wonder if they have helmet polish here?"

The sheeted rain fell heavily from the darkened skies as another low rumble broke through the clouds. Cursing the sudden down pour under her breath Rose dived towards the nearest door along the street, only noticing that it was a café once she had stepped inside. Slowly, she shuffled towards one of the booths, only too aware of her bedraggled appearance. Her soaking wet jeans clung to her legs uncomfortably as did her black coat, and her straggly, wet, blonde hair stuck to her face and shoulders. Flopping down on one of the seats, she grimaced as her clothes squelched against the material. Shrugging her coat off, she pushed strands of her hair away from her face and grabbed a menu she had spotted on the table.

“Not going back out in that so I might as well eat” she told herself with a hint of impatience. Looking up from the menu her eyes swept around the room, taking note of its occupants. She then picked up a plastic fork from the cutlery holder and absent-mindedly toyed with the blunt instrument as she lent back in the seat and wondered for how long she could put off stepping back outside into the deluge that looked to be now so thick that she doubted she would be able to see two feet in front of her.